La Belle et la Bête
by Recession Messiah
Summary: The Cursed Soul Of A Man And The Wandering Soul Of A Girl. Lucius Malfoy and Hermione Granger's Version Of The Beauty And The Beast.


**A/N:** Hello Ladies and Gents! Recession here with another story. If you are reading my other story, "I Put On", no worries I am still working on it. I'm just not all sure what to do with it or where to take it. So this story is BASED on The Beauty and the Beast; but it does not follow the story line 100%. The rating is subject to change.

**Disclaimer;** I do not own Harry Potter or The Beauty and The Beast. I am not making ANY money off of this.

* * *

In a tale as old as time, two people that are barley even friends, unexpected mend on a whim and become more than anyone could have ever imagined. A poor cursed soul of a man, who is perceived by most of the public as a beast has lost one of the things that truly meant anything to him and has a true curse placed upon him by the courts. A young woman, who is seen as an outcast for her thirst of knowledge and lack of want for marriage, is forced in to make a life changing decision.

Lucius Malfoy was a dangerous man even before all this happened he was a danger to all wizard-kind. A ruthless man of upper stature who felt the need to take control of the others lives around him, with time he was caught for his deeds and imprisoned but that solved little. He returned to his ways quickly and was once again punished, by the loose of his wife in the war.

Directly after the war and the death of his wife, he was back in the courts. He was found guilty on all accounts but decided that because imprisonment did nothing but boost his whining ability that a curse would seek the result that the court wanted.

Lucius Malfoy received the curse of _Beaumont Le Prince_. He had laughed at them, challenging them, he had never heard of such a curse and with such a foolish name for a curse. As the curse was laid upon him, he felt nothing, he noticed nothing change, making him laugh again. Upon a single round end table, the wizard that laid the curse placed a single Queen of the Night Tulip, it hovered and had a sliver sparkle to it, the wizard place a glass covering over the flower.

The wizard turned to Lucius and explained the conditions of the curse. The tulips would wilt and petals would die over time, Lucius had until the day the flower completely died to lift the curse by falling love again and have the young women all so in love with him, or else he would die. His son remained unaffected by the curse due to his current up holding at the ministry for war crimes.

******  
Three years had passed, and Lucius remained as sour as ever. He refused to except the contracts of his curse, he was too busy moping around Malfoy Manor and destroying anything that talked to him. Paintings of past family members in particular. He couldn't stay cooped up in here much longer, revenge seethed inside of him. He had to do something drastic. Staring out a window from the west wing, he glared down on the hustling muggle town. They were going to pay for this, all muggles caused his problems as far as he cared.

-----

Hermione Granger moved swiftly out of the book shop, two new books snuggly in her wicker basket on her arm. She was holding another older book that looked as if it had been read a million times up to her face, reading as she walked along through the town. People looked and stared at her as she walked by. They whispered cautiously, avoiding her ears.

"There's that Granger girl again, what's her name? Hermione? Want an odd girl."

"I wonder if she's feeling ill."

"I've heard that she has some sort of powers, but never seen her use them."

"It's a surprise she's not married."  
"Maybe if she'd pull her head out of the book she would be."

Hermione heard none of this and continued on her way down the cobble stone street, avoiding a heard of sheep, children playing jump rope and rain gutter over pour. She flipped pages like nothing else, nothing else mattered around her while she was in this book. She didn't even notice the passing of a dear old friend, Ronald Weasely. She kept on walking as he hurried after her.

"''Mione! 'Mione! 'MI-O-NE!" He yelled coming closer to her. Hermione stopped and turned around to face the lanky red head that was tumbling after her. She marked her place in the book that she had been read and snapped it shut, smiling at him.

"Ron!" Hermione squealed throwing her arms around his neck once he was close enough to do so. "I haven't seen you in ages! How have you been?"

"Fine 'Mione. Well, worried. Well, we're all worried. About you. We miss you 'Mione." Ron said, turning a bit red. "I'd really like it if you would come back, to the burrow."

"Ron." Hermione sighed, the smile fading from her face. "I'm not ready to return. It hasn't been long enough."

"But 'Mione it's been two years and I-" Ron said, being cut off by Hermione.

"Two years isn't nearly enough time." She hissed at him and then turned around and stomped away.

Hermione shoved open the door to her home and quickly closed it behind her, not looking back. She breathed out heavily and closed her eyes, leaning against the back of the door. A moment of silence, there was never enough of it when a Weasley was around that was for sure. Without any sudden warning, a large crash of metal came from the kitchen and Hermione's eye's snapped open. Quickly, she dropped her wicker basket and the book that she had been reading on to the floor and ran towards the kitchen.

"Father!" Hermione yelped looking down on the kitchen floor to see her father dazed, covered in fallen pots in pans.

"I wasn't even aware that we had this many pots and pans that could fall on to me." He said as she helped him to his feet, Hermione chuckled.

"What were you doing father?" She asked, starting to put the pots and pans away.

"I was going to cook us supper for once. Seeing that I have to go back to the office for later hours tonight to cover someone else's shift." He said, brushing his pants off. "But it didn't turn out as planned."

"No worries father." Hermione said laughing. "I can cook for myself just fine. Don't worry about me, I don't expect you to cook for me. I know what you're cooking taste like."

"Well, you do have a point there darling." Her father chuckled. "But I might as well get ready to leave."

With that he exited the kitchen to get ready for his late night of work and Hermione got to work on her supper that she would be eating alone, once again.

------

It was a dark night, fog hung thick in the air and street lights barley flickered. Mr. Granger stepped out of his local dentist office, closing the door behind him he was on lock up duty tonight. He quickly slid the key into the hole, turned it sharply and then checked by turning the door handle to make sure that it was locked. He slipped the key into his jacket pocket and turned down the street to walk home. He stayed as close as he could to the street lights, even though there was a very slim chance of anything happening but the place was still extremely creepy at night.

Mr. Granger rubbed his hands roughly together in an attempt to get warm them up, but rolled his eyes when it failed to do anything. He shoved his hands in his pockets and continued on. He had made it to the path that lead to the home he shared with his daughter, there were no lights just large trees towering over the path. Suddenly Mr. Granger was picked up by an invisibly force and thrown into the nearest tree, he screamed. He looked up to see a loaming black cloaked figure above him, the figure's hair streamed in the wind and there was something in the figures hand that was pointed towards him.

"Who-who-who are you?!" Mr. Granger stuttered. The figured cackled.

"Who am I? Ha. Who am I? I am your races superior. Your kind has ruined me and my family forever." The figured said. Without a second thought, Mr. Granger got up and ran as fast as he could away from the man that had thrown him into the tree, he screamed and yelled as he ran. Out of nowhere he tripped, but did not land on the ground, he merely hovered several feet above it. The figured cackled again.


End file.
